Monthly Archives: February 2011

An art show, the creative impulse, and why I blog

Almost exactly two weeks ago, my husband and I had the privilege of going to an art show opening at Autumn Space, a gallery on Irving Park. The artist was Makoto Fujimura.

Makoto was commissioned to illuminate the four gospels in celebration of the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible (1611-2011).

He spoke about his art, and the inspiration he gathered from the famous words “Jesus wept.”

Our church sponsors this art gallery and orchestrated the show. Musicians from our church (including yours truly) provided background music.

That bass player–wow.

I ran around snapping pictures, and a professional artist/photographer taught me a quick lesson about the zoom function on my flash.

Believe me–I needed that lesson! It’s challenging to photograph a space with such high ceilings, and such contrasts in light and shadow.

Here’s Brad talking to my husband–Brad manages the gallery and installed the pieces for this show the morning of. Way to go, man. Way to stay calm under pressure.

People mingled, snacked on cheese and salami and root beer, and gazed at the art thoughtfully.

And that brings me to this: I love that our church is so committed to the city and to the arts. We’re in the middle of a sermon series on creativity–how we are modeled after a Creator God, and meant to create. From the things we create throughout the day without even thinking–a meal, a thank you card, an email, a batch of cookies–to intentional art such as a painting or a song–it all happens because we are made in God’s image.

Creativity is at our core–not just Makoto’s core or Picasso’s core, but the essence of any and every human being.

I am so thankful for the past year and a half of my life. Since we moved from Delaware to Chicago and I made the switch from a stressful and all-consuming sales and management job to a low-key office job with absolutely no stress, I have had the energy and time to create again.

Hence, this blog.

Hence, my foray into the challenging art of photography.

Hence, making music with my friend Carrie.

Hence, songwriting with my husband.

Hence, experimenting in the kitchen.

Hence, teaching a cooking class (more about that soon).

I can’t believe how blessed I am. I have the calling–and privilege–to be a creative woman. A person who makes things, because I’m the daughter of a God who makes things.

“Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men.” (John 1: 3-4)

“For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him.” (Colossians 1:15-16)

“By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth. He gathers the waters of the sea into jars; he puts the deep into storehouses. Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the people of the world revere him. For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm.” (Psalm 33:6-8)

“Then God said ‘Let us create man in our own image, in our own likeness’ . . . so God created man in his own image . . . God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.” (Gen. 1:26, 27, 31)

What have you created lately? Was it a simple spaghetti sauce? A spanking clean house? A feeling of peace in your home? A fingerpainting project with your kids? A blog post? Whether what you made is large or small, take joy in your ability to create. It’s divine–literally.

Finger-lickin' Roasted Green Beans

Hello my friends!

As a continuation of my Tasty Kitchen recipe-snatching rampage, I bring you these green beans. They are adapted from this recipe, and originally called “Roasted Green Bean Fries” because they kind of taste like French Fries.

I call these ‘finger-lickin” because I consumed well over half a pound of these with much licking of fingers in between grabbings. So if you thought ‘finger-lickin” was just a cute phrase, please also know that it was a messy and delicious reality. And unsanitary, too, if you believe in cooties.

Under normal circumstances, I estimate they would serve 3 adults as a side dish. However, anything this delicious simply cannot be categorized under the header ‘normal circumstances,’ so to be safe I would assign 1/2 lb to each human being.

Quick warning: the first time I made these, I used a blurp of olive oil without measuring. I mean, who actually measures out their cooking oil? Well, my ‘blurp’ turned out to be waaay too much, and the green beans were quite oily. Delicious as well–don’t get me wrong–but just too dang oily. So take a second and measure out that teaspoon–it really makes a difference. You’re going for a very thin coating here.

Ingredients

(Serves 3)

1 lb fresh green beans

1 tsp olive oil

1/4 tsp salt (1/2 tsp = too much)

1/2 tsp pepper

Optional: freshly squeezed lemon juice or spicy dipping sauce

Preheat the oven to 425. Wash the green beans, snap off the stems, and put them on a baking sheet.

Pretend I took a picture of me pouring in the teaspoon of olive oil and tossing them about.

Add the salt . . .

. . . and the pepper.

Now get your hands in there and get ’em dirty!

Toss those babies until they’re all evenly coated. Here we go.

Bake them for 15 minutes, turn them over, and bake them for another 15.

Serve! If you’re trying to dress them up as a treat for the kids, serve ’em with ketchup for the illusion of fries. You can also add a little more salt to taste if necessary. For the adults, you can squeeze on some lemon juice for a punch of freshness to the ole buds.

Or you can serve them with a fun spicy dipping sauce such as this one–that would be fanstastic. Any way you spin it, they’re delicious.

And they also couldn’t be easier. I was inspired to write this small poem about them. I dedicate it to my husband, with whom I promise to share these green beans til the end of time:

I’d eat these green beans day or night

I wouldn’t share without a fight;

they’re tasty, green and oh so great

I’ll pile them high upon my plate.

But since I’m married to this man

whose name is neither Cran nor Stan

I’ll share them so I don’t get fat

forever and ever and ever. Stat.

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